


Heaven By My Side

by errantknightess



Category: Arthurian Mythology
Genre: F/M, M/M, Male Friendship, Slashy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-29
Updated: 2012-12-29
Packaged: 2017-11-22 21:30:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/614534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/errantknightess/pseuds/errantknightess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love is flimsy, but friendship lasts forever. Spurned by his new wife, Arthur finds comfort in the old friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heaven By My Side

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yenneffer](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yenneffer/gifts).



> Requested in the LJ meme as a subtle Arthur/Lancelot slash. Music prompt: "Weapon" by Matthew Good.

You sit by my side, so close that I could touch you if I wanted to. And yet you think I do not see all the looks you throw to the side, to the other side than mine. I watch you bite your lips, blue and trembling. Is it for the stone castle walls that you are so cold? I should expect you to be warmed up by the fire-red velvets and gems gleaming on your fragile figure like sparks in the hearth; but it seems that I cannot fan these sparkles into a flame. You are but a handful of ash falling through my fingers, unreachable and elusive; and the wind would easily blow you to the four corners of the world. I can follow the stealthy glances you cast all around; I know everyone you cast them at. You are sitting by my side, your eyes turned to side, your head turned away, your back turned on me. With the corner of my eye, I see your figure, just as fragile as your vows. Is it because you are not a saint that you cannot take pleasure in Heaven by your king’s side?  
  
*  
You are standing by my side, so close that I would touch you if I could. And yet I do not think you can see the watchful looks I’m giving you. Is it the frenzied horseback gallop that rendered you breathless, your face flushed and beaming? I see your chest waving frantically with greedy gulps of chill air as you lean on your stallion for a rest. We are both weary, but before I know it, you mount again, ready to set off whenever I bid. You hold in the saddle bolt upright, with the firmness of a rock, steady and strong – a rock I can always lean on. Trotting onwards, I straighten my shirt, swept loose by the wild gusts of wind, until you outpace me and make me spur my horse again to catch up. Cloaks flying, we turn our backs on Camelot and ride away. You are still like a stone, your sight fixed ahead, but there is fire crackling in your veins and bolts of lightning gliding down your muscles; and I can see them getting hotter and swifter as we ride further on, shoulder to shoulder, stirrup to stirrup. You stand by me, and so by my side it is Heaven – but I cannot enter it, the sinner I am.


End file.
